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About octoberthoughtspdx

I used to write. In fact, I wrote continuously from the age of 10 until I was about 28. Then I stopped. No more words. Done. I went to school. Several different ones, at that. And I had a series of jobs that didn't make me entirely happy but paid the bills and bought me coffee. And then, in the fall of 2010, while working 40-45 hours a week, taking classes most nights and weekends, I found NaNoWriMo. And I found my words. And I started writing them down. I'm sure my story is not unique, but I think my voice is. I have stories to tell. I have all these angry characters I've been toting around with me but have been refusing to write. And when I say they're angry, I mean they're PISSED that they've been cooped up so long. They do not lend themselves easily to romantic comedy so I guess I won't be writing any.

The summer of our discontent

24 Aug

This, my friends, has been the summer of our discontent.

It started with Cal FC.

It continued with some really stirring losses.

Spenny got fired. Perkins got traded.

We lost a match 5-nil.

Kenny scored on us.

Merritt called us idiots.

And we’re still here. We’re frustrated, but we’re still here.

The Army is gathering.

There’s a Cup on the line.

With waning hope for a playoff spot, we focus on what really matters: we will bring the Cascadia Cup to the Rose City where it belongs.

It starts now.

Vancouver this weekend. Seattle in a few weeks. Road trips to each in October. I’d prefer to have it wrapped up before the bus trip.

Let’s have it.

 
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Posted by on August 24, 2012 in Timbers

 

Enough

19 Aug

It all adds up over time.

Losing to Cal FC wasn’t enough.

Losing Spenny wasn’t enough.

That 5-zip loss in Dallas wasn’t enough.

Trading Perkins wasn’t enough.

Watching what could have been one of this team’s biggest victories of the season slip away wasn’t enough.

None of that was enough.

As fans, as supporters, as members of the Timbers Army, we pride ourselves on always going to 11. We show up early. We wait in line for hours. We start singing hours before the match starts. We continue long after the final whistle is blown. Win, lose or draw. We do this out of love, pride, passion.

We travel thousands of miles to support this team. I saw a post somewhere that one of the traveling supporters on the current road swing through Toronto and New York will have logged 6,300 miles in support of this club.

We buy jerseys and t-shirts and I’m sure that someone somewhere even bought one of those dumbass monkey things.

We memorize every stat, even the ones we find meaningless. We rewatch every game, sometimes three, four times. We show up for reserves, U23s, U20s. Whichever squad is playing, wherever they’re playing, we’re there.

And, because of all of this, because of the passion we have for this team and the culture that’s risen around it, we are idiots.

Except those of us who are morons.

Idiots and morons.

Those are the words that Merritt has chosen for us.

I don’t even…

I’ve been one of the ones defending him for longer than I care to admit. I admired his passion, I have enjoyed his interaction with supporters. Who didn’t follow the Wynalda-Twitter-trainwreck drama?

But I think I’m done now.

Merritt, Gavin has to go.

And you need to apologize, loudly and publicly, to all of us.

There’s a Cascadia Cup match on the other side of this week. We, the idiots and morons, will be ready. Will you?

 
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Posted by on August 19, 2012 in Timbers

 

Mixed feelings

16 Aug

I support my boys in green. I stand with them. I sing for them. I wear a scarf in the dog days of summer. I drag a giant Scotland flag around with me to support my two surviving Scots.

I don’t tell you this to paint myself as some sort of superfan. I just love my club. I want to see them succeed. I want better for them than what’s happening this season.

Not for me. For them.

I’ve been ranting for a week straight now. Perkins to Montreal. Chabala to DC. Gavin being Gavin. John Strong and Timbers in 30 toeing the company line. That horrifying “interview” with Merritt. The Willamette Week interview with Troy Perkins that was far more telling than anything coming from the FO.

There’s this feeling I’m having a hard time describing. I have all these things I want to say and am struggling to put them into words.

People are talking about a boycott.

My head hurts. My heart hurts.

What does this boycott look like? Is it really a boycott if we all still show up at Jeld-Wen on gameday?

I’m currently landing pretty solidly in the concessions boycott camp. I cannot fathom not being in the stadium to cheer for my boys, but I can certainly do it without a beer and a hot dog. Money speaks.

We’re in the middle of discussing this on Twitter, as we have been for a week. “So, I’ll spend $20 to support the boys, but not $7.25 for a beer? I guess I don’t understand the logic,” a fellow RCTIDer tweets to me. Sigh.

I’m not sure I’m the one to explain it, but here goes.

I’m a season ticket holder. I see those tickets as an agreement with the team that I will be there, that I will show up and support them, win, lose or draw, in all weather, against any opponent.

An agreement with the team that I will support them.

This does not mean that I will offer my undying support for every ill-advised, poorly-timed, absolutely ludicrous decision made by the front office nor will I stand idly by as the FO attempts to spin the story to make those decisions look less ill-advised, poorly-timed and ludicrous.

Yes, I’ve contacted my ticket rep. At this point, I’m stunned that he even responds. I’m sure, when he opens his email in the morning and sees my name, there is a deep sigh as he reaches for his coffee. I know that ranting at him (venting to him?) isn’t going to change the course of the season. It isn’t going to unseat Gavin. It isn’t going to stop the ridiculous spin.

But we have to take any opportunity to express our frustration, don’t we?

How far are we willing to go?

My guy in the FO, when I asked him a month ago, said that the normal rules still apply. Distasteful and/or offensive displays might get you a talking-to. Yet the rumor is still circulating that any anti-Gavin display is going to earn you a ban.

Again, how far are we willing to go?

I’m trying to understand all of this. I’m trying to get a handle on how and what I feel.

It comes down to this: Gavin has got to go. If a GWOut t-shirt gets me hauled out of the North End, so be it. I’ll be with a hundred others in the same situation. If a GWOut two-stick gets others kicked out, they can stand with us on the sidewalk.

A moment (or several moments) of silence during the match? This is where we are divided.

What message does it send? What does it say to our boys?

It says we care.

It does not say we do not support them. Quite the contrary. It says we care enough to make a statement. It says we are united in our passion for this club.

Aside from that, through the magic of Twitter and Facebook, we have the ability to alert them to any protest ahead of time. A few words of explanation and I’m sure they’d understand.

But are we there yet?

Are we willing to stand silently, to hush those around us who may not understand, to spread the word beforehand not just among fellow supporters, but also to those members of the team who are most accessible to us? Are we willing to do this?

Some of us are. But collectively? I’m not so sure.

What will it take?

I’m not an organizer. I’m not normally a protestor. I’m barely a blogger.

But I’m ready for whatever happens. And something needs to happen.

I’ve been warned of the repercussions, the possibility of ejections and bans. I’ve been offered advice, as though I were going to step in and be the protest organizer. I’m not, but I’ll pass along the advice.

Stay sober. Stay serious. If it’s important enough for you to launch a formal protest, it’s important enough for you to keep your wits about you.

Have photographers present. You can’t swing a scarf in the North End without hitting a camera or a smartyphone, but those wielding them need know the whens and wheres in order to properly capture not just the protest, but whatever aftermath there may be.

If you’re ejected, go with dignity. We’ll meet you at BE afterward and Chris Cooper will probably buy you a beer. If you’re banned, shout about it long and loud to anyone who will listen. Social media is your friend. No one should be denied access to their club because they have expressed an opinion.

I sincerely doubt that it will come to this. Any sort of protest, organized or otherwise, should cause the FO some frustration but I would hope that, even in turbulent times such as these, an expression of opinion would not bring down the ban-hammer. But this is the same FO that sent out a survey about reserved seating in the North End and was shocked when the response was swift and harsh. They appear, at the moment, to be tone deaf.

As I am wont to do, I’ve talked to some of our TA elders about the current situation with the club. I keep hearing the same things over and over. We’ve been in some pretty crappy places before. We’ve had some difficult, wrenching seasons. The difference now is the scale of things. Bigger stage. More at stake. Many, many more people involved. This is a much harder ship to steer but we can hardly expect it to right itself now that it’s been taking on water for so long.

Again, I’m not an organizer. I can’t encourage you to participate in whatever protest happens. But I’ll keep you up to date if there seems to be a consensus on what that protest will be.

Make your own choice.

 
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Posted by on August 16, 2012 in Timbers

 

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The other shoe drops. We’re running out of shoes.

09 Aug

I’m full of conspiracy theories today. All sorts of “Gavin is trading all the players who’ve really connected with fans” and “Gavin is ridding himself of those most likely to speak up when they see the train leaving the rails” and “Gavin is now feeding sound bites to others in an effort to make himself look like less of a douche” conspiracy theories.

I guess you probably see the pattern here.

I consider myself lucky in that, in the midst of this mess, I’ve been able to talk through things with some of our wise TA elders. I ask questions and they answer. They discuss and I listen. They ask my opinion and I have absolutely no idea what to say.

Well, that was yesterday, anyway.

Today, one of them is replying to emails entirely in Latin. Others have gone silent.

There’s a sense of shock. Not even shock, but shell shock.

I wasn’t sure if that was really the term to describe what I’m feeling, what I think a lot of us are feeling, but a quick look at Wikipedia confirms it.

It has been described as a reaction to the intensity of the bombardment and fighting that produced a helplessness appearing variously as panic, or flight, an inability to reason, sleep, walk or talk.

Oh, yes. That’s totally it. We’ve all been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Spenny was shown the door. We’re down two shoes this week. How many more shoes do we have?

We all knew another trade was coming. I was certain that it would (heartbreakingly) be Eric Alexander but, as it turned out, the next former Timber with a plane ticket was Mike Chabala.

There are some who will point to his recent play and assure me this is a good move both for the team and for Mike. I get it, but there are still others I’d rather had gone first. And I’m not keen on spinning this as a mercy trade. Poor, poor Mike gets to go to DC! He’ll see some playing time now! They were just gonna release him at the end of the season anyway, right?

Whatever. Maybe that’s the reality, but it sounds like something a shadowy, GW-flavored version of James Carville might craft. If there’s a quote from Mike that confirms the story, I’ll happily retract the previous statement. And if it’s out there, I’m guessing someone will soon point it out to me.

Mike came to us midway through last season and immediately showed himself to be someone who understood what it meant to play in the Rose City. It’s not enough to play and play hard. It’s not enough to just wear the badge. You have to have passion. You have to have fire. You have to become one of us.

Mike found a way to do that immediately.

I will add him to the list of players I will miss. And I will wish him the best with his new team.

***

I made my pilgrimage to the stadium today, spurred by sentimentality or insanity or something else I can’t quite identify. I looked out over the field. I reached out to touch gates and the walls. I imagined a better time, a happier time.

And it worked for a minute. The ghostly echo of a chant, a hint of smoke, laughter, love, pride, passion….

***

The pod will be out sometime Friday. I probably said something stupid that people will laugh openly about, but at this point it’s all just a blur. With any luck at all, the stupid stuff I said will be difficult to hear as I think I was holding my mic somewhere near my right ear. Regardless, I’m honored to have been invited and thankful that I finally got to meet Roberto and Nevets. I still haven’t bought Nevets a beer, but I did leave some cider in Merritt’s basement for him.

 
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Posted by on August 9, 2012 in Timbers

 

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Upgraded: a mess of a post after a mess of a day

07 Aug

I don’t even know where to start. Seatbelts are in order as I have no idea where this is going to go and it might be a bumpy ride.

Has it really only been a month since Spenny’s departure? It feels like a decade.

And here we are again.

Troy Perkins.

Dammit, Troy Perkins.

Apologies to the surviving Timbers, but Troy was our one constant. He was our rock, our warrior. The man had his face kicked off for us and came back with absolutely no hesitation. He came back with a fierceness that I cannot imagine any of the rest of us would have been able to muster. When asked for my starting XI, I only ever give ten names because I only have one keeper I trust to put out there match after match.

Troy Perkins. He belongs to Montreal now.

But he will always be a Timber.

What comes next? This is a question I ask and am asked on an almost daily basis.

There is no simple answer aside from this: I don’t know.

We can look back and say, sure, we knew Spenny wasn’t long for Portland. Those rumblings had begun months ago and we collectively assumed he’d at least finish out the season. But we knew he was going.

But Troy? Troy was untradeable. That’s not even a word. Spellcheck tells me it isn’t but you know what I mean. They could have traded anyone else and, while I might have been surprised or angry or whatever, it wouldn’t have floored me like this has.

There is rage. There is this overwhelming feeling that, as so many of us are waiting for the next announcement, our front office is throwing in the towel. Or maybe they did weeks ago and I just didn’t notice it because I was still waiting for a miracle. A turning point. A watershed moment.

Well, here we are. This is our turning point, such as it is. That realist girl from the last post? She’s pretty sure this is where our season ends. I kinda hate her.

I reached out to one of the players today to offer a word or two of encouragement. It’s something that’s easy to do with this team as many of the players are on Twitter or Facebook and are super-responsive. I think it’s important to do that sometimes, to let them know that, despite whatever bizarre behavior is exhibited by the front office, we will still support them. We will still believe in them. We will not falter in this.

I won’t give you his response except to say that it leads me to believe that more change is coming (shocking, I know) and that the players who are still here are on edge.

I don’t want that. I want my guys focused on playing soccer, on playing for the badge, on playing for us. Trading Troy Perkins makes that impossible.

I get how this works. There are no guarantees that a player will not be traded. It’s a part of the world in which they live. But there are some guys you just don’t trade and when one is traded, I can’t help but think of the (poor word choice here) impact it will have on the rest of the squad.

Sigh.

I still believe.

There was a very brief discussion (hardly a discussion, really, more just a few angry tweets) on Twitter about the mantra “Believe Beyond Reason.”

Believe Beyond Reason, I read, is stupid. It “implies you don’t expect results.”

Not true. I expect results, I’ve just managed to stay hopeful longer than you have this year, Angry OG. It’s no slight to you. We’ve very different experiences with this club. You’ve been around longer, you’ve been more deeply involved. It is because of the work you’ve done that I’m here and I recognize that.

Whether you like it or not, I’m still, despite the idiocy of the last month, believing beyond reason.

I want the star above the crest. I want the hardware. I want the parade. I want the gathering in the square. And we will have all of those things.

But we won’t have any of them with Troy Perkins.

There’s a lot of speculation romping around on Twitter and Facebook and all the various other outlets. Who goes next? Who might be on the way here already?

I will be stunned if Kris Boyd returns for a second season here. Truth be told, I’ll be surprised if he’s still here for the Vancouver match at the end of the month.

Kalif might be next, but I think the first out will be Eric Alexander. Fair warning to those around me: this will trigger an all-out meltdown on my part.

Is there really anyone left that’s untradeable? Chara, perhaps? But if Perkins can go, surely Chara can, too.

***

When John Spencer was fired, my reaction was to go to the Bitter End to mourn. I drove toward the stadium and parked on 20th. There were satellite trucks there from every local station but I quietly made my way around them to walk over by the team store and look out over the field. I reached out as I walked and touched the brick of the outside of the concourse.

I’m nothing if not sentimental. I did the same today, though there were no cameras, no reporters, no flurry of activity. It was just me and the stadium, a bit of architecture I’ve come to think of as a cathedral.

I was angry a lot of the day. I won’t lie. I’m guessing I’ll spend a lot of time angry over decisions made by the front office in the coming weeks and months.

But being there calmed me. It reminded me that I’m in this for the long haul. As long as the Timbers play, I will be there. Troy is gone. Others will come and go. But I’m not going anywhere.

And, for a minute, it was okay.

***

I’m going to hang with the guys from 5mTKO tomorrow. The podcast will be up on iTunes sometime Friday.

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2012 in Timbers

 

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Survival.

05 Aug

Survival. I think that’s what we were all focused on today. At least I was.

Genetically ginger, I melt at about 82 degrees. When I got out of my car to hop on a train to Jeld-Wen this afternoon, it was 92. MAX was blissfully empty and air-conditioned. I briefly considered staying on board and riding all the way out to Hillsboro just to stay out of the heat.

But I didn’t. I dutifully went and got my wristband and retired to the air-conditioned darkness of the Bitter End where, in a further effort to survive the heat, I drank water instead of beer.

When it came time to head back to the field and get in line, it occurred to me that I could just stay here and watch the match, in the comfort of the darkened bar, with no line for beer and no chance of heatstroke.

But I didn’t. I rallied and got in line. In the sun. In 90+ degree heat.

Because that’s how we love.

People are complaining that we didn’t get the three points. People are complaining that the pace of the game was slow. People are complaining.

Shut it. It was 92 degrees. We didn’t lose. I’ll take the point.

I got the feeling that’s what we were playing for anyway. I’d like to think our boys were playing to win, but the realist in me (a creature you probably won’t hear from often) knows that they were playing to survive.

Five-zip at Dallas was stupid. I’m still shaking my head over that. The realist, brought out probably due to this weather, was waiting for another blow-out.

And she was pleasantly surprised to make it to the half scoreless.

The other me, the Believe Beyond Reason girl, was looking to a Boyd-Richards pairing to make things work. She was disappointed to find Alexander out of the eighteen (the Realist is having chicken and egg thoughts about this: did his dinner with Kevin Hartman Saturday night put him on someone’s shit list?). She knew Dike would replace Boyd in the second, but she thought Dike would hit the back of the net at least twice.

There’s the problem: neither the Realist nor Believe Beyond Reason girl have any idea what’s in the minds of our boys. What are they playing for? Pride in the badge? Love of club? The paycheck?

Here’s what we saw today:

Kimura’s run to the North End before the match started. Again. I love him more every time he does it. It tells me he’s in it for us and because of that, I’ll forgive a lot of errors.

Franck Songo’o and his post-match angry-tweet. He’s done that a couple times now and he’s winning me over. I like that he’s pissed that he didn’t win. He should be.

David Horst is back. Less so in this match than in the last, but his presence was still felt. I’m looking to you, David, to continue to play all-out. You are key. (Also, thanks ever so much for kicking Brek Shea in the face. Job well done.)

Diego Chara. I shudder to think where we’d be without him.

So, now we have ten days to mull over a draw at home against a team we should have beaten three times. Ten days before we face the only team with fewer points than we have.

Ten days. Ten days to craft a plan that will bring us as many points as possible. I still want that playoff spot. Yes: still.

Keep it up, Rose City. Don’t give up.

Also, both Scots started and neither spontaneously combusted. I’ll call that a win.

 
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Posted by on August 5, 2012 in Timbers

 

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One city, one club, one love.

05 Aug

We get so caught up in the everyday business of soccer and complaining about soccer and celebrating soccer and bemoaning players who aren’t playing to their potential and coaches who seemingly refuse to coach that we forget that there’s so much more to this whole thing we’ve got going on here.

Our boys will play Sunday afternoon in this ridiculous heat. We’ll show up, we’ll stand in line, we’ll sing and shout and wave our flags. Perhaps our boys will win us three points. Perhaps not.

Right now, at this very moment, it matters little to me. Something else happened this weekend. Something we, and they, can be proud of.

This weekend, the Timbers Army raised $27,000 to benefit Harper’s Playground.

Twenty-seven thousand dollars.

In one day.

I am stunned. I am amazed. I am so proud to be in any way associated with these folks.

Harper’s broke ground recently at Arbor Lodge Park here in Portland and will be the first inclusive playground here, a playground without the barriers that kids (and adults) with disabilities find elsewhere. The Timbers Army/107ist has made it a core mission to improve access to soccer facilities in the Portland metro area, but this transcends soccer.

Today, thirty artists put their art up for sale and somewhere in the neighborhood of 900 prints were sold. IN ONE DAY.

Did you miss your chance to help? No, of course not.

The TA/Harper’s “Everyone Plays” scarf is still available here.

Harper’s Playground and the list of things still needed to complete the project are here.

You can join the Timbers Army and be a part of whatever the next big project is here.

Thank you to every single person involved in this. You make me proud.

Quick update: the remaining prints from yesterday’s event will be up on the Timbers Army website for purchase sometime soon. Go get ’em.

 
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Posted by on August 5, 2012 in Timbers

 

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Here comes the housekeeping post, bro.

01 Aug

Is it only Wednesday?

We left off here at a ridiculous hour Sunday morning with my vow to get my gameday scarf signed by Kris Boyd at the TA season ticket-holder barbecue. Alas, I was thwarted by the front office who, it appears, did not make this a priority event for the first team. Or a large percentage of the reserves team. Or, not surprisingly, the coaching staff.

I’m of two minds on this one. One side says, hey, we don’t own these guys. They should get time off, away from the lot of us. The other side says, yeah, but without us, they’re playing to a silent stadium. I’d like to fully buy in to the conspiracy theory that this is Gavin being Gavin, finding another way to separate the TA from the team, but I think the reality is that the FO fears that we might not have been as kind as we should have been with the players.

Whatever. I wanted my scarf signed and, in an effort to troll one of my Twitter friends from up north, I wanted to touch Mike Fucito.

Regardless of where you stand on this one, I didn’t get the scarf signed but did manage to take a few minutes to, quite literally, roll around on the pitch like I was six. Except I probably wouldn’t have done that when I was six.

If you’re following along on Twitter, you know I’ve been in touch with my ticket rep who has taken pity (despite there being no pity in the Rose City, he’s had some brought in just for such an occasion) on me and has made arrangements for me to get said scarf signed. And, as it would happen, I might even get to touch Mike Fucito, which sounds creepier than it actually is. (Speaking of creepy, I came home from the barbecue with Eric Alexander’s pants. Charity auction, people. Calm down.)

Looking back, Monday seems quaint. I had a minor flip-out when a mainstream news guy likened the battalion of Timbers bloggers to the recent influx of porn-bots on the #RCTID hashtag. For the record, I may have over-reacted but here’s the deal: I’m super careful about what words I put out into the world (despite the number of typos I miss before posting) and I wasn’t keen on the comparison. He and I have discussed this and all is well. Onward.

The first bit of stupid yesterday had my phone buzzing before I was even out of bed. Oh, Valencia.

Here’s the account as it stands: 20-year old Colombian Trencito gets a call from home, is upset, gets a little noisy and goes out to his car to get a phone card to call his mom. The neighbors get all wacky and the police are called. So, language barrier, cultural background, middle of the night, nosey neighbors; everything seems to pile up and our kid gets arrested.

I was more than a bit stunned. I see a headline saying a Timber has been arrested, this kid is pretty low on the list of Timbers I think it might be. But, as more and more info comes out, it looks like just a build up of frustration for a kid who just wants to play ball. He’s left his family and come to this crazy place with all these crazy people. He doesn’t speak a lick of English and, with this freak injury, can’t do what he came here to do. I’m surprised it took him this long to snap. I’m hoping this will be a snap-to for the FO. Get the kid more involved. If he needs help dealing with all of is, make sure he gets help. Somos Timbers, people. Somos Timbers.

The story might have faded by noon except that Cubbie had to pop up on Twitter and get all mouthy and call someone “bro” when he was questioned about some previous tweets about the whole mess. You’re a professional journalist covering a team that has a very tight-knit community woven around it. You, a guy we assume doesn’t want to be doing the job in the first place, should be aware that when you get mouthy with one of us, another 600 of us will pile on, bro. And thus, Timbers faithful, Cubbie filled our Twitter timelines with bro jokes but he himself was the biggest bro joke out there.

So, that’s the balance of the last two days: a vague derision of Timbers bloggers as a whole and Cubbie, a one-man reason to only get your Timbers news from bloggers, bro.

What else? There’s some significant chatter about Sean McCauley, the recently-arrived assistant coach that Gavin says isn’t a candidate to fill Spenny’s shoes, actually being the guy who will fill Spenny’s shoes.

And there was a Merritt Paulson tweet today that I interpreted as a swing at Boyd. Or at the fans. Or higher alien life forms. I’m entirely unsure, but I think it might call for us to all wear tinfoil hats on Sunday. Or something. I think Merritt might have finally snapped. If he wants to talk it out, I’m available. I’m told I’m a good listener.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be less bizarre, but I’m not counting on it.

One more thing: Harper’s Playground still needs some cash. Here’s a good way for you to provide some and bring home a fantastic piece of art in the process:

http://www.arttakeoverportland.com/index.php

I think that’s it for now. Well, there’s one more thing, but I’ll wait until details are finalized. Let’s just say, there may be an opportunity in the near future for me to make an ass of myself in yet another format. And I blame you people.

Honored and terrified,

nomad

 
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Posted by on August 1, 2012 in Timbers

 

The signing of a scarf: in defense of Boyd.

29 Jul

“What’s with the scarf?” he asked me. It didn’t seem like one of those questions people ask to just be polite or one of the ones asked with an eye to ridiculing the answer. It seemed like a question asked because he actually wanted a real answer.

“It’s a signifier, an identifier. It’s how we find other members of our tribe.” Yes, this is how I talk to people in real life. I use these words.

He smiled a smile that was somewhere between taking me at my word and thinking I was completely insane. The conversation moved on.

I’ve taken to collecting scarves (scarfs for the purists). I love the color and design and the symbolism of them. Most of them will never see a gameday.

My gameday scarf is a No Pity scarf, the signature scarf of the Timbers Army. A simple green and white bar scarf, it features the Army’s Rose and Crossed Axes design as well as the words No Pity. Where most NP scarves have simple black fringe, mine has green and black fringe from a special run about a year ago. It also bears the signature of the only Timber I’ve ever asked to sign anything: Kenny Cooper.

I tried to retire it when Kenny was traded to the Red Bulls. I was wearing it that day, in a drafty warehouse where I was working for a customs broker. It was folded neatly on my desk when the only other Timbers fan in the office sent me the email. “Did you hear? They traded Cooper.” I think my heart stopped for a moment.

I unfolded the scarf and wrapped it around my neck for what I thought would be the last time. I would start the new season fresh. I would wear a different scarf when my boys next played at Jeld-Wen.

And I did for a few games. But there’s something about that first scarf. It is always the most special one you will ever own.

So, sentimental me brought out the KFC scarf again. And tomorrow, I’ll add another signature to it.

Here’s where I launch into a rant I shouldn’t have to write.

That’s right, kids. I write in defense of Kris Boyd.

Boyd’s lazy. He’s fat. He’s old. He’s a has-been. He’s only in it for the money.

I’ve heard all of it. And all of it is ridiculous.

Boyd’s a poacher, a target striker. He lurks, he carves out space for himself where there really shouldn’t be space. He’s not a sprinter. He’s not a marathoner.

He’s the Timbers leading scorer. Aside from that, he offers leadership when our captain falters. He doesn’t shy away from confronting opposing players who’ve wronged us (let’s remember the “Montero Finger” for a moment, shall we?). He’s our fire. He’s our passion. He’s filled with the same frustration we all share.

Let’s think back to the times this year when he hasn’t started. Did we win those games? Did we even show up to those games?

Cubbie at The O, as part of The Incident a few weeks back, said that Boyd was expected to be some sort of savior for the Timbers. It’s a ridiculous statement because, at the time of Boyd’s signing, we didn’t need a savior. We needed a better midfield. The failing that sent Kenny to NYRB is the same failing we’re seeing now with Boyd. And the same idiots are yelling.

They screamed for Kenny’s head last year and this year, they’re calling Boyd lazy. I’m still learning the game, but the correlation here is obvious. Signing big name target strikers and not signing anyone who can feed them just brings heartache.

But but but what about tonight? What about all the chances Boyd had tonight? Why didn’t he score?

I don’t know. And yet I’m still writing, aren’t I?

After months of learning that he can’t rely on his team, he’s doing a lot of the same things Kenny did when he had this realization last year. He’s all over the place, he’s not always where he should be because he’s trying to create something from nothing. Again: Kenny did the same thing. The only differences are that Kenny ran faster and that I don’t remember ever seeing him drop into the left back position and look almost like he belonged there.

If I understand correctly, Boyd’s contract was for a year with an option for a second. I desperately want him to stay, but I don’t see why he would. The man who brought him here is gone. He sees the direction this is going with Gavin at the helm. He’d certainly be welcomed back with open arms at Ibrox.

But if he does stay? And if we manage to bring in the right guys to put in the midfield? Sigh. So long as Gavin stays, we know this won’t happen.

So, tomorrow, I’ll return to our ground. I’ll take my gameday scarf and I’ll ask him to sign it, knowing that if tradition holds, it means he’ll play somewhere else next year with great success.

But I won’t bother trying to retire the KFC/KB scarf next year. I’ll wear it to every match and hope that I don’t have to have it signed by anyone else.

For the record, it still smells like goal-smoke. Goal-smoke from Boyd’s two goals against LAG.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on July 29, 2012 in Timbers

 

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Love is a battlefield

28 Jul

I love my Timbers. I do not just love them, I am in love with them.

Being in love is tough.

In sickness and in health, right? Through every triumph and tribulation. In torrential downpours and sweltering summer nights. Through the preseason and the offseason and the mid-season offseason.

Before, during and after CalFC, LAG and Dallas. Before, during and, looking to the future, after Gavin.

Through scoring droughts and and dodgy defending. Through threats of bans for dissension and reserved seating in the North End.

Through all of this.

As I write, less than seventeen hours from game time, the dread I was feeling earlier in the week is fading. Yeah, I said it. I was looking toward this game with dread.

I’ve been waiting all week for the next bit of bad news, waiting for some other ridiculous and/or terrible Timbers story to break. Instead, we had a quiet night Tuesday with Aston Villa and then radio silence.

Sure, there were a couple blips on the radar today: Eric Brunner back at practice after his most recent concussion and the possibility of seeing Trencito at training as early as September. And then we spent the rest of the day looking for Jake Gleeson at the opening ceremony of the London Olympics.

The sun will rise in a few hours here in Cascadia. The sun will rise and we will prepare ourselves for battle as we always do.

I want to see Boyd start. I expect to see Boyd start. Without him, the fire is lessened, the intensity lost. I want to see Alexander in the middle again. The wheels came off in Dallas, but I still think this is the best option for him. I’ll choose Smith over Chabala with apologies to Chewy. You show heart, Chewy, something I wish we saw more of from every player on the squad.

I’ll take Futty and Mosco and Horst and I’ll expect Horst to step up his game because I know he has it in him. It was about this time last year that I thought he really came into his own. I’m hoping for a repeat performance.

And here’s one I’ve never uttered aloud before: give me Rod Wallace. Painful to even see the words there, but there they are. Put him next to Franck.

And, to further illustrate the point that I should never be put in charge of choosing the starting eleven, put Dike and Richards up with Boyd.

Just this once, give Boyd the armband. That’s another thing you won’t hear me call for very often, but that’s where it should be right now: wrapped tightly around one of those inexplicably long-sleeved arms. We need his fire. We need his leadership. We need his experience. We need him to kick ass and not even bother to take names.

I’m leaving out players I want to see play. I would like to put fourteen, maybe sixteen guys out there. Zizzo and Fucito and Mwanga all deserve time. Can I play six forwards at once? This is just one of the myriad of reasons Gavin is the interim coach and I’m not.

Regardless of who starts, we will be there in full battle dress and in full voice. Win or lose, this is our team. We will not fail them. Ever.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on July 28, 2012 in Timbers

 

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